


The world I thought I lived in

by Killermanatee



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killermanatee/pseuds/Killermanatee
Summary: Mark contemplates life without Kathryn.





	The world I thought I lived in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Helen8462](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/gifts).



> For Helen. This was meant to be a Christmas fic but it just wasn't ready in time.  
> You are a welcoming ambassador of the fandom, incredibly talented writer, dedicated beta and good friend. I owe a lot of happiness to you in 2017 and look forward to what 2018 has in store. So here is some Mark to thank you. And brevity. ;)

The view past the screen on my desk offers bright blue skies. It’s a gorgeous day over San Francisco, yet another one without you here to enjoy it. It is perfect for a long walk with Mollie, for getting a cup of coffee and for coming home to curl up on the couch together.

These thoughts still come to me automatically. Even as I go through life by myself.

I used to have a pretty clear vision of what our future would be like. We’d be married for a year by now. We’d have finally moved in to that perfect house together, would have shared the duty of puppy-care and the responsibility finding them good homes. We would have attended family functions as husband and wife. Maybe we would have a child of our own by now, like we talked about.

Instead I am sitting here alone, one month after you’ve officially been declared dead.

Of course I was at the ceremony and of course I hated every minute. They really tried their best to do you justice, to commemorate your crew, talk about the duty you were fulfilling. It was all such bullshit.

Still nobody knows what happened, or at least nobody told us anything. I am no longer angry about it, have given up on sending inquiries and hunting down admirals. My life continued without me even realizing. I research, I teach, I attend symposiums. I even have a somewhat solid circle of friends I see on a mostly regular basis.

And slowly but steadily existing without you by my side has become the status quo. I only wonder if instead of building everything around the hole you left behind I should have tried to fill it.

Mollie whines at my feet. She only ever does that when I have been sitting still too long so I check the time and realize I had been going through these lecture notes for over three hours before getting distracted. When I stretch, my back protests and I have to move my head a few times to loosen the stiffness.

In reaction to my change in position Mollie is already at my side, tail wagging excitedly. I scratch her ears. “Yes, yes I know. Ready to go running?”

At those words she starts panting happily and trots out of the room, urging me to come along. We’ve turned into a pretty good team and it has become difficult to think of her as your dog when she has now spent more time living with me than you.

As usual, she follows my every move when I walk to the bedroom and then watches me from the hallway as I change my clothes. Before I head out, my eyes fall to the picture on the dresser. I see it every day and yet today especially it makes me pause. It’s the last picture of us together, taken at your mother’s home, the day before you left for Deep Space Nine.

Remember how you’d come straight from headquarters without having time to change into civilian clothes? Although I think you were also eager to show off that new pip on your collar. It did look amazing on you.

Your mother insisted on taking the picture. If she hadn’t, I don’t even know what the last photo of us together would have been.

We ended up eating out on the grass, soaking up the sun before you were headed to space and I joked about the freckles you’d get just before leaving, about how I’d have to check you all over and up close upon your return. Later that night I made sure to have a good source of reference.

You were so excited about your first command, wouldn’t stop talking about Voyager, this new and innovative ship you had been given. And I was so proud of you. I told everyone that my fiancé was in charge of the crown jewel of the fleet. You used to tease me that I always made it sound much more important than it was, that it was just a short mission, nothing special.

If only.

I take the frame and look at the happy people in it and as I search deep down inside of me I can’t find any more anger, no more searing pain. There is only the dull ache that is always with me, left behind by what you took when you disappeared.

The love I feel for you will never fully fade. I will always ask myself what could have been and that spot you hold in my heart will always be yours. But I am so tired of living with your ghost.

Before I can give it another thought, I slip the frame into the top drawer and when it closes, I feel a sense of relief.

Mollie barks and I follow her to the door.

\---

We run our usual path down to the dog park where Mollie can roam and play with other dogs while I get in my exercise as well. It feels good to finally be moving, to clear my head and just focus on my breathing.

As I run down to the lake, Mollie takes off towards a small grey dog and, despite my calls, is too excited to come back. I curse and chase after her.

When I come to a stop, she is still sniffing the seemingly old and frail poodle. I wipe the hair from my sweaty face and grab Mollie’s collar to pull her back to my side. “I am so sorry, she never does that.”

“Oh no worries. She was very polite.”

At the sound of a faintly familiar voice I look up and finally notice the woman who is standing in front of me.

“Wait. I have seen you before. You spoke at the annual philosophy symposium in Indiana this spring, right?”

She laughs, fine lines framing her lips, her eyes twinkling. “Yes, I did.” She reaches out her hand. “Carla Sinclair. Nice to meet you.”

Her hand is warm and solid in mine.  I smile at her and for the first time in a long while I don’t have to pretend.

“Mark Johnson. The pleasure is all mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this would be utter rubbish without the help of my soulmate and beta-extraordinaire Klugtiger. <3


End file.
